Insert Pretentious Title Here
by plug in baby57
Summary: Mrs Briggs' replacement gains an insight into our favourite webshow team via their schoolwork. Will contain references to just about every possible pairing.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly nor the film Léon, which is mentioned.  
**

You've been an English teacher for a few years now and found it fairly enjoyable. Your first job in London was a bit rough, the pupils had little interest in learning and there was a very real threat of having a knife pulled on you. You regularly questioned your career choice during that time, but felt it paid off when two of your students went on to study English at university. Considering that most of the kids in that school were destined for prison, you felt pretty proud that two of them were fulfilling their potential. It wasn't enough to keep you there though, a job offer from a school in the suburbs drew you away to a safer and better paid job.

You drifted along for a couple of years, not particularly challenged but earning a good wage. It was during a holiday in France that you met a principal of a high school in Seattle who was in need of an English teacher, the previous one having gone on some sort of bagpipe rampage. Luckily the two of you got along famously, so much so that he offered you the job. You thought about it for all of five minutes. It sounded more exciting than your current job. When Principal Franklin described the bagpipe incident, you got the feeling that it wasn't all that strange at his school.

After a couple of weeks at Ridgeway High, you get a feel for the place and it's students. Eccentric is the polite way of putting it. They mostly seem willing to learn, or at least willing to work for good grades but things are usually a little surreal. You're liked by the students, it seems that is because you don't play the bagpipes but they do have their problems. The other teachers warned you about Sam Puckett, you doubted one student could be all that bad. So far you were right but so far she'd only been in three of your lessons, and it was fairly surprising that she had actually done some work to hand in at the end of the last one. It took a lot of coaxing but it seems that she did eventually write a poem. You're just a little worried about her when you finish reading it.

-

**A Poem She Didn't Want To Write By Sam Puckett**

Firstly, _Sir_, I think you should be more gracious that I'm in this lesson,

Spencer just got the DVD of Léon, directed by Luc Besson,

I'd much rather be watching that, so you should consider my good behaviour,

As something of a favour,

And stop being a jerk,

By making me work,

Who do you think I am?

-

Perhaps that question will be answered, when I follow your advice,

And write what's on my mind, mostly that stuff isn't all that nice,

But you've caught me on a good day,

When my violent thoughts are hidden away,

So I'll open up my brain,

To see what it contains,

So you can get to know Sam.

-

Mostly I think about punching, for no discernible reason I even think about hitting my friends,

If Carly and I had matching black eyes, I think we might start a trend,

I also think about funny jokes and stuff, you know,

I am part of a famous web show,

Ham, of course, crops up a lot,

On my list of favourites it holds the top spot,

That's what it's like to be Sam.

-

Except, of course, that's not what I'm thinking of right now, the one thing that gets me really hot,

Is a pair of nice feet, and the idea of sniffing them, even in a pair of sweaty socks,

But only on girls, somehow I think guy's feet are revolting but I'll lick any girl's toes,

So Freddie is a no, but I'd love it if Carly pressed her gym socks over my nose,

And the fact that she's got nice legs doesn't hurt,

I have to restrain myself every time she wears a skirt,

That's the kind of pervert I am.

-

And as this poem you made me write nears it's finale,

You've probably deduced that I'm in love with Carly,

Which is close, but no cigar,

I just want to lick all of her lower half,

And maybe bite her toes, or inhale the scent of her foot sweat,

Because that's what really gets me wet,

Because I am Sam.

-

It was interesting, no doubt. She was lucky that you prided yourself on being open minded, you guessed that your predecessor would not have stood for this but as long as she was doing the work, you imagined it as a victory for yourself. Provided she didn't swear or go into graphic violence, you decided, you wouldn't report her to Principal Franklin. There were bigger things to worry about.

Particularly Gibby. The lad's writing so far had been quite awkward, words weren't his medium as such. Unfortunately, his medium was topless dancing and he had taken his shirt off in every lesson so far. There were other slightly unreal problems to deal with as well. By all appearances, Fredward Benson was a normal teenage boy, the problem was his mother. She had come in to see you on the first day of school and was definitely a high dose of crazy, she seemed to think you needed a tick bath. Jeremy was sneezing all through your lessons and all of Rodney's work seemed to contain advertisements for pirated DVD's. Then there was Carly Shay. Although usually reasonable and well tempered, the girl was on occasion, too sassy for her own good. If there were such a thing as a sassiness meter, she could have broken it. The strange thing was that she was completely unaware that the word 'sassy' applied to her.

**--A/N--**

**Not too pleased with the prose, it's just a sort of framework for the poem really. The idea of this fic is that it's mostly random schoolwork from the iCarly crew, but I wanted that to be explained in the piece so that readers are welcome to ignore these Author's notes. I shall have to give credit to SquishyCool, whose fic Nose Ring was the main inspiration for this. Hopefully this isn't too similar, I daresay my prose my be a bit too similar to Nose Ring's first chapter. If you read this SquishyCool and think that, I'll take it down and rewrite it. Or I may be over analysing my thought processes while I was writing.  
**

**Anyway, the inspiration for the poem was, it may surprise you, The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. I started trying to copy the rhyme and rhythm and sort of drifted into something a little easier. I've also been listening to Tim Minchin's beat poems, Mitsubishi Colt and Storm. The matching black eyes idea is based on a strange impulse I had a couple of years ago to let a girl beat me up and the sweaty foot fetish is all mine. This won't all be poetry, nor all from Sam's POV. The dashes in the poem are there because for some reason the formatting wouldn't take, I blame those people who talk at the cinema.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Carrie either.**

Luckily for you, Sam hasn't written any more about her foot fetish over the last two weeks. Of course, she hasn't actually written anything over the last two weeks and you probably should do something about it. However, it would seem from your conversations with the rest of the faculty that you're probably better off without her. You know that you don't want to see anything else about a foot fetish, that much is for sure.

Unluckily for you it is a Friday night and you're at home when you'd rather be at a bar. You have kid's work to mark, the downside of teaching. The assignment was to write about a time when they heard something that they didn't want to hear. Most of it had been whining about not getting a new Xbox or whatnot. Generally good writing but some of these kids couldn't see a decent subject if it walked up and kicked them in the genitals. Looking at the next in the pile, you see the title followed by the name "Fredward Benson" and you hope he can conjure up something interesting.

"_No!" Carly screamed at me, before storming upstairs and locking herself in her room. I was perplexed. The question I had asked that elicited that reaction was a fairly commonplace one between us. I racked my brains, trying to identify the point at which I had angered her but came up with nothing, like a 404 error of the mind. I searched and searched but my mental googling had no results. There was nothing I had done to sent the normally mild mannered Carly into such a rage._

_I was eventually interrupted by the entrance of Spencer, Carly's brother. He had been at the junk yard picking up some stuff and it was only when he returned that I realised that I had been standing in the doorway all this time. We exchanged a few words before he left for his room and I left for the Shay's couch. I knew that my good frenemy, Sam was due around soon and I hoped she would be able to clue me in about Carly's mood. If anyone knew, it would be Sam, the two of them were best friends and very close. Almost too close. _

_When I asked Sam about it, she laughed right in my face and at a high volume. I had anticipated such a reaction, it was a Sam standard but the expected "She'll never love you" failed to arrive. Instead, she gave me the cryptic warning "You don't want to know." With hindsight, I should have heeded that warning. Instead I pressed on._

"_Do you really want to know?" She asked._

"_Yes, that's why I'm asking." I answered, foolishly._

"_It's that time of the month." I will admit now that I am an idiot and this should have finished there but I was young and naïve last year and looked on blankly._

"_She's on the rag." Sam said, seemingly willing me to understand her hidden meaning. I still didn't get it._

"_A visit from Aunt Flo?" She asked me, this time begging me to understand. I continue to look confused._

"_I'll say it in a way you must be able to understand Fredweird. She is rebooting her ovarian operating system. Understand?" This confused me beyond all reason. Why did I not understand any of these euphemisms? It could have been so much easier and so less disgusting. My puzzlement angered Sam. She grabed me by the collar and screamed at me, shaking me back and forth._

"_Got the decorator's in. Arsenal playing at home. Waving the red flag. Surfing the crimson wave. She's painting the town red, don't you understand?" She's shaking me so hard that my brain is scrambled and I really couldn't even try to understand them. She continued on, "She's closed for repairs, she's being visited by little Elvis, she'll attract bears for the week, she's fallen to the communists, the river is running red!" Being bombarded like this only made me more confused. I managed to get out a single word._

"_What?"_

"_For Pete's sake. First scene of Carrie." She cried at me._

_  
"I haven't seen Carrie," I confessed. She stared me in the eye and I was scared._

"_You brought this on yourself." She warned me. I truly thought she would uppercut me all the way across the Shay's apartment. I wish that was what she did. She spoke slowly and deliberately. "Blood is seeping out of her vagina." Sam later told me I went very pale at that moment. Alas, Sam is a good friend but also a good enemy. She didn't let it die there. "Her uterine lining is gushing out of her lady parts like water from a hose." She carried on delivering such similes for the rest of the day. That's definitely something no man wants to hear. The end._

You think two word to yourself after reading his work. Oh dear.

**--A/N--**

**Does nothing to advance the plot but the idea wouldn't leave me alone. Freddie's tale is a combination of two real events from my life. The first was when one of my mates kept bugging a girl about why she was going to the toilet so much. He wishes he'd left it alone now. The second was a time when I somehow ended up explaining menstruation to a thirteen year old boy. I consider it one of my greater moments as I managed to fit in the phrase 'seeping womb juice'. Disgusting but funny. I am surprised at just how many euphemisms I came up with. The bear one was adapted from the film 'Anchorman' and 'Little Elvis' comes from a Whose Line? scene.**

**Next up will be a Cam scene from Carly's POV, a Seddie scene from Freddie's POV and a Sam short story about invisible ninjas. But probably not in that order. Hopefully I'll pull some Creddie from somewhere in the recesses of my brain, this isn't meant to be all about Sam, she's just too good of a character. If you're very lucky I'll throw in some Freddie/Gibby (Fribby? Geddie?), or should that be unlucky?  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: For a moment I thought I hadn't referenced a film in this chapter, but no, the Lion King is mentioned. I don't own the Lion King but I do own a copy of it.**

Twice a week without fail, whilst school is in term, you question your choice to become a teacher. The first is the dreaded Monday morning lesson. You're always tired and the kids usually are too, and you've only just started the week. Since the move to Seattle, you've had the added bonus of looking forward to disturbingly insightful writings from your students. You imagine the mistake was that conversation with Samantha Puckett after you read her first poem. You told her that in you didn't want to stifle her creativity, so provided she didn't go too far with violence or swearing, you wouldn't report her. It seems that she spread the word around and now some of the students are treating your assignments as personal therapy. It's probably led to some better work from them but as a teacher you are learning far more about your students than you want to.

The second time you question your career choice is the last lesson on Friday afternoon. Again, no one is paying attention. Even your own mind starts to wander and everyone in the room is willing the bell to come faster. The Friday afternoon lesson you were currently involved in was particularly hellish. The season that the locals call 'Fall' was fast approaching and there was a feeling in the air that this would be the last sunny weekend of the year. Most of the class were longingly staring out of the window, ignoring the work you had given them and you scarcely cared yourself. You've got a date with a cute checkout girl called Veronica. Strangely, she only became interested in you when you went to the store in a suit.

Even stranger is the fact that Samantha Puckett is in class. She skips at least a lesson a week and this lesson is one that would tempt the normally good kids to skip. Alas, she is here and as always, eventually causes trouble. The class is silent as half of them daydream about being outside and you daydream about being anywhere else. Soon someone starts whispering but you're too disinterested to do anything about it. In fifty minutes you'll be free from this place and hopefully around Veronica's. The whispering gradually increases in volume and is punctuated by a fist hitting a table, which jolts you from your fantasies. You look around and see that Sam is talking to her best friend Carly Shay, the one student who had so far not handed in something disturbing.

"No talking, Miss Puckett." You say, wearily. Forty eight minutes until freedom and you don't anticipate her reply.

"No one's doing the work anyway, old man." You realise she called you old. Old? You're in the prime of your life and you're not _that_ much older than these students.

"I'm twenty seven, Miss Puckett." You reply. "Get on with the work." The silence returns for a moment. It's quickly interrupted by a feminine yelp. You look up to see Fredward Benson holding his arm, sitting one desk from Samantha.

"Why did you do that?" He asks her, to which she shrugs her shoulders.

"That's a detention, Samantha." You inform her, she looks despondent whilst Fredward looks triumphant. He deigns to speak again.

"That's a very good decision, sir." He says and a tiny part of you wishes she had hit him in the face.

"No one likes a suck up, Mr Benson. Don't do it again." Sam sticks her tongue out at him before they both pretend to do the work. Quickly the whispers begin again, this time Fredward and Sam are trading insults. You look up to the clock and see that you have thirty seven minutes until the bell. You glare at the both of them and they quiet down. Then they quickly build it up again. You go through a cycle of hearing them insult each other and you glaring at them, until it builds up too quickly for you to stop it.

"You're just upset that I said no to you," Fredward says loudly, projecting it to the class. If looks could kill, the one Sam gives him could explode a mammoth. Her teeth are gritted and she practically growls out her retort.

"If we're going there, I can tell them what I saw you and Gibby doing." Whatever they were doing, it's enough to make him back down. Unfortunately, as a teacher, it is your duty to intervene.

"This is English class," you begin, "You're meant to be writing not speaking," you admonish them. "Take you anger and put it into words." You say, thinking that the emotion will help them write. Looking at them you realise that you can't trust them not to fight in one way or another, so you make sure they don't. "Next person to speak will get two weeks of detention." You warn the students loudly.

You sit through the rest of the lesson, bored but in peace. Everyone rushes out of the door come the bell and you're left with a thin pile of classwork on your desk, about eight people actually did something during that lesson and one of them drew a picture of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. It was a very good picture but had no words, so you couldn't give it any marks. You figure you've got time to mark a couple before you need to get home and change. The first one you pick is by Fredward.

_'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,_

_Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,_

_Except Sam. Carly and Spencer had gone to spend Christmas with their dad, stationed in Europe. This meant Sam was making my life a living hell for the four days up to Christmas and on Christmas morning broke into my apartment and woke me up. This wasn't just any wake up call, I woke up to find her straddling my hips wearing just a bra and jeans. I was confused but in a good way. Unfortunately it wasn't long before she grasped my pyjama top by the collar and started talking. _

"_We're going to have sex." A painfully blunt statement, typical of Sam because it totally destroyed all my thought processes._

"_Wha?" Is all I could muster in reply. It was understandably a shock to my system._

"_You. Me. Sex." She summarised, throwing my head back onto the pillow._

"_Umm. Why?" Although an attractive proposition, it had all come a bit suddenly._

"_Because I haven't gotten any since Carly and Spencer left." She informed me. Something clicked in my mind._

"_You've been having sex with Spencer?" I cried out._

"_No!" She seemed fairly shocked by my question. "Where'd you get that idea?"_

"_You said you hadn't gotten any since Spencer and Carly left." I answer. Something else clicked in my mind. "Carly? You and Carly?"_

"_No." She stumbled, her face clearly displayed the mental gymnastics she was going through to cover herself. "If I like girls I wouldn't be trying to have sex with you, would I?" Her logic made sense but given the time it took her to think of that, Carly was definitely involved in some way. I thought of another question._

"_Why are you trying to have sex with me?"_

"_Because I know you want to and I'm getting desperate here." She shook me around a bit for good measure._

"_What makes you think I want to have sex with you?" Given our previous relationship this seemed like a big step. Sure every couple of months there was a moment when we thought about kissing each other, but full on sex? With my mother just a thin wall away?_

"_I'm sitting on you and I doubt you've taken to sleeping with a roll of quarters between your legs." Again, her logic was faultless. She took my contemplative silence as a cue to start shaking me around some more, as if I might have just passed out. It reminded me of that awkward conversation we'd had about a month before. Which in turn reminded me about why people have sex._

"_Do you have, umm, protection?" I asked hesitantly, bare in mind that last year I was still young and naïve and had yet to be exposed to Sam's full sex life._

"_Don't worry, I'm on the pill." She said. For some reason my mind went to Spencer, which given the situation felt a little dirty._

"_So it is Spencer!" I said. She looked on, puzzled. "You wouldn't need the pill if it was with Carly." I continued. "Ugh, he's like twelve years older than you. That's weird." She quickly grabbed me by the throat._

"_I'm. Not. Having. Sex. With. Spencer." She growled in a tone reminiscent of Mufasa in the Lion King. "Now, do you want to do this or not?" She asked, returning to her normal voice._

"_No," I said with difficulty. She quickly moved her hands back to my collar, ready to shake._

"_You do, admit it." She demanded._

"_No," I smirked. She shook me around._

"_Yes,"_

"_No,"_

"_Yes,"_

"_No,"_

_It continued like that for a while before she eventually changed tack and luckily she did so before my collar was ripped off. She had completely killed to mood as well and my entire body was now in agreement with my mind, thus making it easier to deny her. She eventually asked the obvious question._

"_Why not?" This was something I had thought about for a while and my answer managed to both amuse her and infuriate her._

"_I want my first time to be special." Little did I know how much pain that would cause me two minutes after I said it. Of course, her first reaction was laughter, holding her stomach and wheezing out her words. _

"_Virgin?" A snort of laughter. "Special?" She was almost crying with joy and finally rolled off me. "You sound like a girl." She put on a mock high voice. "I want my first time to be special." She mocked, and laughed. Then she suddenly went silent, as if something had dawned on her. She was back on me in a shot, hands around throat and really cutting off my air supply this time._

"_So I'm not special? Am I not special enough for you geekwad?" she screamed at me, her language peppered with curses, that I shan't write here. I struggled to find words and air._

"_No..." Gasp. "It's... just..." Gasp. "Not in that way..." She finally let go and I could breathe the sweet life giving oxygen once more. I was so relieved to have not died that I didn't notice her knee until too late._

_Sure, I may have been bruised from thigh to navel until the twelfth night, such was the force, but I do have a feather in my cap in the fact that she wanted me, and she can't deny it._

Now you've just received too much information, the idea of one of your student's having sex is disturbing. You know that a few of them are probably sexually active, but by god you don't want confirmation like this, if at all. Most of all, however, you are struck by massive disappointment in Freddie. This was clearly the incident he was referring to earlier and he had been perfectly willing to tell you all about it, regardless of how personal it was to both him and Samantha. You decide to try and forget all this as you leave for your date.

**--A/N--**

**Three updates in a week? You lucky devils. I'm not so sure about this one, to be honest. It's not as funny as I thought the concept was, at least from here it isn't. That he was writing about almost having sex in class just feels wrong. I had to edit the teacher's part a bit as it went a bit weird and creepy the first time round and it left me feeling a bit sick. As for Freddie's writing, I originally wanted it to devolve into him and Sam debating the existence of god but that was defenestrated pretty quickly by my sudden desire to write a Gibby/Freddie scene. Freddie was going to be the christian against Sam's atheist but then I thought it wouldn't fit in with my Geddie designs, I think it would be interesting to write about someone reconciling forbidden love with their faith but this isn't that fic. I hope you find this chapter funnier than I do, I've been tainted by that creepy early draft.**

**The picture of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle is based on an image of an exam paper floating around the internet, where the question is about genetic mutation and the answer they've given is just a drawing of a TMNT. I think Veronica was the name of the girl Spencer dates in iMake Sam Girly and if it ain't, who cares? But that is who she's meant to be. Before you ask, I haven't forgotten Sam's foot fetish, you will see more of it. The next chapter will be what Sam wrote in that lesson and I'm giving you a choice. You can either have a nice and violent short story about Invisible Ninja's that will include the line "Delightful Dance of Death" or you can find out just what Sam knows about what Freddie and Gibby were up to.**

**I'll warn you now, Freddie and Gibby aren't going to be a main pairing, just a short affair, as it were.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Again, you are alone on a Friday night marking school work. Your date with Veronica died a slow painful death like Ricky Gervais at the Princess Diana memorial concert. Despite leaving it as late as possible you have no choice but to mark Samantha Puckett's work.

_I have seen things. Things that no person should ever see. Things that cannot be unseen and haunt me nightly. Things of such terror that they equal the very depths of hell. Things conducted by Freddie and Gibby in the AV room._

_I was walking innocently through the school after detention. I had realised that today was the meeting day for the AV club and I could force Freddie to give me a lift to Carly's if they had overrun slightly and he was still there. If he refused I could always steal his wallet for bus fare. As I neared the room I saw the mass exodus of the geeks, exploding in all directions, flooding towards their overprotective mothers waiting for them in the parking lot. I could not see the King Geek amongst them and so I crept up to the door of the AV room and peered through the strange small window that all school doors have._

_What I saw was Gibby putting away the AV equipment with the help of what appeared to be some sort of hideously malformed, grotesque and effeminate evolutionary throwback. Then I realised that it was Freddie. They hadn't noticed me and appeared to be talking but I couldn't make out anything that they were saying. Whatever it was Freddork looked worried and Gibby looked sad. It was apparent that the Shirtless Wonder was explaining something to His Dorkiness and His Dorkiness was reluctant to go through with it. What happened next was the blackmail equivalent of a million dollars but a million dollars being given away on a game show where you have to wade through sewage. _

_Freddie and Gibby were soon standing close to each other. Much too close. I struggled to understand why they would be standing that close, like a couple about to kiss. As they closed their eyes and leaned in towards each other's face it hit me. There was some lip contact and I realised that to prevent the most disgusting game of tonsil hockey ever from taking place I had to burst into the room and shout "I knew it! I knew you were gay!" at Freddie repeatedly in an accusing tone. As usual he backed away in fear of my awesome power._

"_It's not what it looks like," he blabbered but I ignored his blatant lies._

"_It is. It's exactly what it looks like." I shouted at him. Gibby had disappeared by this point, he suffers from a strange compulsion to flee like a girl whenever I kick down a door and start shouting. It's not like I made a habit out of kicking down doors and attacking him. I've done it maybe four times in the last year, that's not much. If someone ate four chocolate bars a year you wouldn't say they ate chocolate a lot, you'd probably even say it was strange for them to eat it at all. So it was a rare, freakish occurrence when I kicked down this door, just so you know where we stand._

_Freddie babbled and I shouted at him, grinning like a madman. Then he tried to bargain with me, offering not to tell about a prior incident we had last Christmas if I kept quiet about this. I had to remind him why he hadn't told anyone about that yet. In specific terms I said:_

"_If you tell anyone about that I will rip your face off and wear it as a mask for Halloween." He seemed sufficiently cowed so in a desire to end my ordeal of just being in the AV room I added, "And I need a ride home." To which he raised an eyebrow._

"_Carly's home." I corrected myself. "I need a ride to Carly's home." I shook my head to clear it of that mistake. Now, I hear you ask, why were you so sure he's gay? Couldn't it just be some teenage experimentation? To answer that we must go back further and we'll also discover why I refuse to film "Wake Up Spencer" ever again._

_King Dork and I had crept into Spencer's room one hot summer night to shout some random stuff at him and confuse the hell out of him. The mistake we made was to do it on a hot summer night. Spencer is like a brother to me and is one of the few people I've never had sexual thoughts about, so I was rightly disgusted when we woke him up and the covers moved well away from his body. Whilst he claims to be an artist it seems that he works nights moonlighting as a tripod. Freddie was not disgusted. At first I thought he might be staring because he was blown away by the sheer size, honestly it probably weighed more than a new born baby. But his face was more interested than shocked._

_This was the first warning on my gaydar, the Gibby situation cemented it and I am sure my gaydar is right. I am very confident in it as I've not once been to a club and hit on a straight chick. It's just a shame that I can't pick out a girl that will let me lick her feet. I'm always putting up with boring sex and no foot play. Anyway, Fredward Benson is a synonym for homosexual._

You finally decide that this has to stop. You can't put up with reading anything more about your student's sexual preferences, Sam's foot fetish, her newly revealed ability to pick up chicks and the size of Carly's brother's wedding tackle. You might never be able to walk past the AV room again, let alone look at Fredward and Gibby and it's going to get awkward if you ever have to meet Carly's brother.

**--A/N--**

**No film references this time. Just whacked this out quickly as a little teaser for the future. I will at some point do this from Freddo's POV but it'll be a while as I want to focus on 'iHate Sport' some more and maybe finally write a first chapter for 'You grew on me' that I like as I've finally got a good idea in my head for it. Also this fic was neglecting Spencer, so I decided to make it up to him physically. And now to address some reviews.**

**shybabe - This isn't from the perspective of Mrs Briggs, this is her replacement. She was fired for a mysterious bagpipe rampage.**

**SquishyCool - Thanks, with a bit of distance I can see that was better than I thought. It was just that my first draft had the english teacher actually wanting them to write about it which, given that I had actually aged him in that chapter as well gave off a creepy vibe that stayed through the redraft.**

**And everyone ought to go read my drabble "About Nine or Ten Yards."  
**


End file.
